


Notes on a Wall

by OneLetteredWonder



Series: Sanders One Shots [16]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Comfort Food, Fluff, Food, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), Multi, One Single Weed Mention, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Post-it Notes, patton is a chef
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24669400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneLetteredWonder/pseuds/OneLetteredWonder
Summary: “I want to make dinner for you all! What kind of foods do you like?”“I am partial to nothing in specific. I appreciate the sentiment to make food for the house.”“I am fond of Italian and Spanish cuisine~ Spicy foods always have a way to my heart as well~”“pineapple pizza”“hEATHEN”Patton can’t help but giggle at the word boldly written through the pizza suggestion. As an aspiring food connoisseur he has yet to give his full opinion on the pros and cons of pineapple on pizza and will make no such judgement lightly. And maybe he does wish the other two had given him more to work with, he has something now and the words reply in his head like a melody in bright red marker.Italian. Spanish. Spicy.He can work with that. It’s not a lot, but it’s something and Patton loves it all the same.So he cooks and fills the house with lovely smells and even if he doesn’t get to see someone eat it right away, he somehow knows they will like it.--Patton communicates with his roommates through notes on whiteboards and makes them as much food as he possibly can.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton
Series: Sanders One Shots [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768828
Comments: 12
Kudos: 113
Collections: fic to read for the bubbly feeling!





	Notes on a Wall

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: uhhh slight weed mention? pot brownies for like four lines, lots of food mentions, swearing

When Patton first decided to live off campus and live in a shared house with three random strangers, he honestly really didn’t know what to expect. Sure he had been hopeful in some regards, maybe he could make a friend in this new place, or maybe one of them would answer the door when he knocked so he wouldn’t have to put the heavy box in his hands down to fish out his keys from the depths of his pocket.

“Hello?” He calls into the open room. No answer. He lets out a small huff and works on kicking the box in with his foot in lieu of lifting it back up. He closes the door behind him to not let any of the colder air out and then takes a look around his new living space.

It looks exactly as advertised. Plainly painted beige walls and plain beige carpet. He stands in the living room, spinning in a bit of a circle to take it all in. The living room is a decent size for a rented place. Someone already brought in a couch and there’s a TV placed on the floor. It’s all joined into what could be a dining area if there was a table, but for now it’s just this floating open space. Then there’s a kitchen, small, cramped, and a single coffeemaker stands on the counter. 

On both sides of the living space is two small hallways, each with three doors. The two on the ends are bedrooms, the one in the center a shared bathroom between the two bedrooms.

Patton twists up his nose. He huffs again and lifts up his box of books, the heaviest of his things so the first he brought in and heads towards the left hallway. Both bedrooms doors have some small decal on them. The room tucked in the corner has a wooden sign on the door, the words “Please do not Disturb” written in white against a dark blue background. The other has a wooden name placard in a bold glittering red, ‘ _R’,_ written in calligraphy that’s almost hard to read.

Patton teeters to the right side of the living room with his heavy box.

The door more hidden in the corner has purple caution tape wrapped from corner to corner, making it look like an X across the door. Patton tilts his head to the side to read the writing. ‘Caution Reclaimed Water Below’. Now Patton is sure that’s not accurate, but he doesn’t know enough about the place to dispute that claim. He turns to the other door, plain and unmarked.

Carefully, and with his tongue peeking out of his mouth, he manages to twist the knob without dropping his box on his foot and opens the door. Finally! He is able to put the box down in somewhat of a proper place. He puts his hands on his hips in triumph for just a good self proud second, then heads right back out to grab more boxes from his beaten down truck.

Perhaps not a good car, but he loves Bessie and the little cow plushie sitting on the rear dash too much. His truck is plain silver and on the smaller side when compared to most trucks, but it makes him worry less about driving in the lines so it works. The back seat is full of boxes of random things for college while the bed of the truck holds his dresser, bookcase, and a side drawer painted with bright blue flowers.

He’ll travel later tonight to get his bed from his dad’s house. It’s one of the last things he has at his dad’s place besides an odd photo album or poster or two. Patton can barely believe they’ll be apart like this for the first time. Sure he’s been at college for about a year now but his dad kept his bed even when he moved almost three times during the year. It’s an odd feeling.

Patton manages to get the rest of his things settled in his room, beginning the stages of putting stuff in their rightful place as the night creeps in. His clothes are hung up and his college books are placed back on the shelves of his bookcase. All in all he’s rather accomplished.

He skips out of the room, eyeing his box of kitchen wares on the floor near the open space next to said kitchen. It hasn’t been touched, which is a good sign so far. None of his roommates have sticky fingers, or they just haven’t come out of their rooms yet. Patton blows up a puff of air at some of the curls in his face and heads out the door, locking it snugly behind him.

* * *

Patton is sniffly on his way back to his new apartment. He and his dad shared a very tearful goodbye, knowing they are very much separated now that Patton no longer has a bed there. But there were promises to write all wrapped up in a linked pinky that makes Patton feel better. He’s on his own and he’s proud of himself for that.

Plus! Now he has more than a bed. He has the old rickety table that leans to one side but doesn’t wobble, an old set of knives his dad never used, and then a set just for Patton. The knife set is complete, the blades baby blue and the handles white. Of course Patton cried. He loves them so much.

It’s been his passion since he’s been young and with a degree in hotel and restaurant management under way, he’s even closer to owning his own restaurant. He loves cooking too much, the passion of food, the spark of delight, and seeing someone ask for seconds fills his heart with rainbows.

He takes the box of knives in first, placing them in the kitchen area to be dealt with after the bed and table situation has been figured out. His box of other supplies has been moved slightly to a less in the way spot.

He struggles of course getting his mattress inside, but makes due all the same. When it’s finally set up and Patton manages to hook the corner of the fitted sheet over all edges, he flops down hard. He ends up giggling to himself. He did it all by himself and he feels tired, sore, and so accomplished.

But there’s still more to be done.

He’s about to get up when he hears a door open, and close. He can’t help it. He rushes to his own closed door and rips it open, just in time to see the front door close shut. His shoulders drop comically. So close, yet so far. It takes a moments pep talk for him to head to the kitchen area. Not a lot of drawers are taken up and there’s ample space for Patton to put all his utensils. He hums a little himself putting everything away, happily smiling at the sets of knives he now owns. Those go on the counter.

With everything put away he puts the container on the floor of their small pantry. Only a few things left. The table is much easier to move inside by himself. It fits nicely in the corner spot and even though he doesn’t have chairs, it’s still makes the place feel more homey. It’s then Patton knows exactly what to do with his dad’s other present.

All the time he’s been there, less than a whole day, Patton has felt off about the place. It looks like people live here, but it doesn’t look lived in. There’s no spark of fun. And Patton plans to fix it.

His last gift from his dad is a set of note boards. One plain white board, one scheduling white board with the days of the week with enough spots for four people, a cork board, two pads of paper, two different sticky note pads, and a dozen magnets.

He puts the cork board near the front door all even like and the scheduling white board right next to it. He writes the letter ‘P’ in a bright blue marker and what he knows of his schedule for the next semester. Next he puts the plain white board on the fridge with the magnetized pad of paper next to it. After careful consideration, he opens the fridge, and jots down on paper what to get from the store next time he goes.

After more consideration, he draws a simple blue heart on the fridge white board too.

After even more consideration, he takes a piece of paper from the pad not on the fridge, left on the counter, and writes down a simple greeting note.

“Hey! I just moved in! Feel free to use the boards!”

He pins it to the cork board, and heads to bed.

* * *

Shopping, Patton decides as his stomach grumbles audibly, is the most important thing to do with his morning. He woke up way too late in the afternoon, tired from moving all his stuff yesterday. Classes don’t start for another month or so, so he’s in no rush.

The bathroom is open for his use and he locks the door behind him. He puts his stuff in one of the open drawers and his shampoo in the shower corner. There’s already some stuff in there, including a make-up bag. Though curious to it’s contents, Patton doesn’t pry. He takes a decently long shower and feels happily refreshed and ready for shopping.

 _Maybe_ he writes on the mirror in washable marker a smiley but that’s not a big deal.

He grabs the shopping list off the pad and squeals when he notices.

To say Patton is delighted to see his boards have been used is an understatement.

There’s more items on the shopping list than before, two other sets of hand writing, both having written please on the bottom. Patton would be thrilled to get them things.

His face feels like splitting int two when he sees a note in response to the one left on the cork board.

“heard you come in last night. wanted to help but I ~~didn’t.~~ ~~was too nerv~~ ~~didn’t know if~~ was asleep.”

Even though Patton is unsure how they could have heard him and be asleep at the same time, it doesn’t stop him from appreciating the sentiment all the same. in response, Patton takes one of the sticky notes, draws a happy face, and tacks it to the response note.

During his whole shopping trip, Patton can’t help but feel giddy at seeing someone else’s writing next to his. He gets so much food, probably too much. But he saw the empty contents of that fridge and he is _not_ about to let anyone eat scraps of food. Not on his water proof watch.

He shuffles in the groceries himself. Almost having to make three trips but he struggles with a determined smile on his face. As he puts away the groceries his mind races and over thinks and thinks again about all the different kinds of dishes he can make with his new ingredients. It’s a whole world to explore and the only constant is that he wants to cook for his new housemates.

So Patton does the only thing he can think of, and writes on the white board on the fridge, biting his lip happily seeing a red crown drawn next to his blue heart.

“I want to make dinner for you all! What kind of foods do you like?”

And how he can not wait for a response he’s tempted to sit on the kitchen floor and hope someone comes in and answers his burning question. Do they like chicken? Steak? What about veggies? Are they vegetarian? Pasta? There’s so much Patton can barely contain himself.

The barely turns to can’t when he goes to head to his room and notices more writing on the schedule board. ‘L’ writes in black and their handwriting is neat. Patton can recognize it from the grocery list. They have their next semester schedule written along with times for going to the library, perhaps a job? Patton doesn’t know, oh but he wants to.

There’s a small pang of sadness knowing he has yet to actually meet, let alone see any of his roommates, but this? This is a wonderful start.

He’s certain the homemade mac and cheese he makes tastes better than ever this time around. He puts the leftovers int he fridge and puts a sticky note on it.

“Feel free!”

* * *

It’s not until later does Patton hear a door open, and yet again, even though his door is open this time, he doesn’t catch whoever is leaving. He huffs. Shouldn’t they talk by now? It’s been at least a whole day! He trudges to the living space, still not exactly lived in. Maybe if he sits on the couch someone will appear. Like magic, or hopeful thinking.

Still he smiles at seeing the last two spots on the schedule board filled up. ‘R’ uses red and takes up as much space as possible with their writing, and ‘V’ barely writes down any info except for some times and ‘out’. But it’s something and Patton, well Patton always did love too easily now didn’t he?

The only trouble comes when he does really look at their schedules, and how well they don’t line up at all. They have classes at different times, work and ‘out’ings all scattered, there’s barely a time when either of them could be in the house at the same time at all. That surely puts a damper on Patton’s not so slowly growing fondness to people he’s never really met.

He’s nothing but not optimistic, and that optimism strikes hard seeing some of the food taken out of the mac and cheese bowl, two new sticky notes of thanks written on the containers, and wonderfully, lovingly, responses written under his question from earlier.

“I am partial to nothing in specific. I appreciate the sentiment to make food for the house.”

“I am fond of Italian and Spanish cuisine~ Spicy foods always have a way to my heart as well~”

“pineapple pizza”

“hEATHEN”

Patton can’t help but giggle at the word boldly written through the pizza suggestion. As an aspiring food connoisseur he has yet to give his full opinion on the pros and cons of pineapple on pizza and will make no such judgement lightly. And maybe he does wish the other two had given him more to work with, he has something now and the words reply in his head like a melody in bright red marker.

_Italian. Spanish. Spicy._

He can work with that. It’s not a lot, but it’s something and Patton loves it all the same.

So he cooks and fills the house with lovely smells and even if he doesn’t get to see someone eat it right away, he somehow knows they will like it.

* * *

“Thank you for all the food darling~”

“I agree it was delicious.”

“thx.”

* * *

Patton manages to land a job within the week, some moderately busy bistro in town. Not quite hole in the wall, but a very local business. The owner and manager is lovely and they seem to adore Patton. The head chef takes a shine to him right away and pulls Patton under his wing before Patton can properly say hi. To say Patton loves his new job is an understatement. 

He’s lucky, he knows he is. They are willing to work with his school schedule and the owner is willing to help Patton understand the business and how it works giving him an edge in one day owning his own place. It’s nearly a dream come true.

Patton takes his training very seriously and though it makes the head chef laugh, he admires Patton’s attitude when it comes to creating and cooking and actively encourages his branching out. Whenever they practice new dishes, they let Patton take home extra for his housemates. It’s the little things Patton decides.

He lets out a happy sigh at home, body buzzed and head full of fluff at his day at work. His work schedule has already been added to the white board and a take-out menu is pinned up to the cork board. It’s joined by a pamphlet to the planetarium, a list of dates for a school play, and flyer for some concerts in town.

Maybe it is silly but Patton loves writing to them. They still haven’t met just yet, but Patton swears he saw one of them passed out on the couch covered head to toe with a blanket the other day, and he swore he could hear another singing across the living room. Either way, he’s happy they are at least interacting with him in small ways.

He goes to put the containers in the fridge, marking an ‘L’ on top of the one he has, thinking that whoever ‘L’ is, they will enjoy this dishes specifically. Gosh if he doesn’t sigh dreamily looking up at the white board, looking at what everyone has written for the day.

“Thank you for the food, wonderful as always.”

“Everyone at my theater is jealous of my personal chef~”

“thx for food”

* * *

“Would you be willing to make the salmon and rice dish again? I find myself craving it’s flavor.”

“Not until they make those red hot wings again! I want to not be able to feel my taste buds!”

“do you want like us to pay you for this or something? you like buy all our groceries too dude i feel bad”

That question has two arrows pointing to it in different colors. 

That gives Patton pause. Pay him? Well, sure he wants to be paid for this eventually, and he is buying the groceries a lot, but he finds he doesn’t really mind. His college is mostly paid for on scholarship, and his job pays him well enough to cover rent and some fun. But most of Patton’s fun is cooking anyway so he would just spend it on groceries in the end.

He bites his lip as he responds.

“Only if you want to! I love cooking so it’s not a bother to me!” 

He’s sure to draw a small smiley face too. He hums happily and makes his way to work. He wouldn’t mind the financial help, but thinking back to the little notes of thanks and compliments they give him, it almost feels like payment enough.

When he gets home, he’s absolutely tickled to death seeing three separate magnets, one black, one red, one purple, each with two twenty dollar bills underneath. Well Patton may just cry at the thoughtfulness. He’s quick to write down the ingredients for Salmon Pilaf and Red Hot Wings. One day he hopes ‘V’, or who he thinks is ‘V’ based on color scheme, will write down what they like so Patton can make it for them.

He takes the money off the fridge.

“You guys are so sweet!!!!!”

* * *

“Thank you for the meal.”

“I want a copy of your cookbook, a subscription to your cooking show, and you as my personal chef~”

“thank”

* * *

Patton looks at the schedule, sticking his tongue out slightly. He’s sure, almost positive, that no one is home. ‘R’ and ‘L’ are out, and though ‘V’s schedule doesn’t say they are out, the house is so very quiet Patton doesn’t think they are. So he risks it, and dumps fruits and juice into the blender.

It’s not the most pleasant of noises, yet the way everything looks being ground up into a slush makes Patton wiggle in excitement. He’s left sticky notes on all his outward appliances, telling the others they can use them, but he doesn’t think they do. Maybe he’s spoiling them. He giggles because he enjoys it for now.

Once everything is blended he fills a cup up with the slushie smoothie mix he made. He keeps the rest in the blender and smacks the lid on. It’s put in the fridge with the same note all his mass of extras has.

“Feel free!”

* * *

“I had completely forgotten about breakfast foods, the smoothie was a good wake up.”

“My taste buds are singing your praises~”

“can you make another one? if its not too much trouble i mean”

* * *

Patton experiments with breakfast foods after that, leaving some pancakes and eggs and bacon and toast either in the fridge or carefully in the oven with notes telling where food is for them all to find.

He works with more fruits now after ‘V’ asked him to make another smoothie. He finds that his sweet things, not quite desserts, but fruity dishes go by fast. Perhaps he finally found out what ‘V’ likes and doesn’t that make Patton float above the ground.

Experiments are fun and though he’s not sure what he’s doing, Patton sticks his tongue out as the fruit simmers with the sugar carefully added. It’s a mixture of a few recipes from online with his own base instinct. He pours it in a mason jar to let cool and puts it in the fridge with a question mark written on a sticky note on top. Then he goes to the white board next. After his question has been posed, he takes the grocery list, another twenty magnetized next to it, and heads on out the door.

“I tried to make jam! Let me know how it tastes?”

* * *

“I may have gotten carried away, my apologies.”

“I didn’t even get to try any you scoundrel!”

“wow savage”

Well Patton surely didn’t mean to come home to the jar empty, finger scraped clean, and half of the loaf of bread gone. It’s a good thing he bought more fruit.

* * *

“Hope your classes go well today!”

* * *

School starts up and Patton is diligent in his classes. Business, Math, Home ec, Yoga because it’s good to breathe once in while. Enough to keep him busy. He’s begun making food in containers, easily portable to and from school for him and his housemates.

Sometimes he wonders if he’s seen them before on campus. It’s not a large campus but it surely isn’t the smallest. ‘R’ once said his theater was jealous of their food, do they do any of that at school? What about ‘L’ or ‘V’? Do they bring the food out? What if Patton sees them eating it in public? Wouldn’t that be a shock to them all.

Either way he works, focusing on what he needs and wants to do. Really he thinks of his housemates as his test group. Figuring out which of his dishes are better than others, which ones take work, which ones they ask for more often.

He collects all that, written down in his own notebook for future menu item ideas. He has no idea which kind of eatery he wants to run. He loves breakfast foods, but lunch is so yummy, and dinner makes him so warm inside, and desserts he has yet to master. But what can he do?

He worries his lip between his teeth, wondering if what he’s going to do is a good idea. He writes on the whiteboard and then hides in his room, not ready for the answers.

“I want to own my own restaurant. But I don’t know what kind. Any ideas maybe?”

* * *

“Apologies but I would have taken up the whole board so I am writing on the notepad. I firmly believe that regardless of what kind of restaurant you own, you will be exceptionally proficient in whatever you chose to excel in. That being said, what kind of food gives you the most satisfaction to make? Is there more worth in making one style of food over the other? Which one would make you more financially stable? Can you be happy making one style of food all your life or will you change eventually? These are important things to ask yourself when figuring out your path.”

“YES PLEASE DO THIS I LOVE YOU I DON’T KNOW HOW TO HELP BUT I WILL EAT THERE EVERYDAY TO MAKE SURE YOU STAY IN BUSINESS~”

“idk follow your heart dude your stuff is good”

* * *

Maybe Patton cries a little at their blind support, but no one has to know that. He takes a picture of their notes and pulls ‘L’s from the board to keep forever. In turn he draws a big heart on the board with no reservation what so ever.

* * *

“fuck math holy shit.”

“Are you having problems in your course of study?”

“Math is the bane of my existence and steals my soul like a demon at midnight~”

“numbers and shit”

“Aw math is difficult for me too kiddo”

* * *

“I apologize, it seems I have lost some self control again.”

“That was MY jar of jam thief of sweet!”

“sux 2 suc”

“I can make more!”

* * *

Glimpses of feet, of hair, of something not enough is all Patton gets and his heart aches to meet the people he’s considering friends. He wants to know so much. The notes tide him over, but how long until it’s not enough?

* * *

“I shall be out at rehearsals all weekend, coming home late~ Wish me luck~”

“Fracture a femur.”

“dude what”

“Dinner is in the fridge! Good Luck!”

* * *

“okay can you actually make pizza from scratch or are you bullshitting me”

“Language! Yes I can, it’s not that hard really!”

“It sounds like a very tedious process and one must be skilled to get it right I presume.”

“put pineapple on it”

“HEATHEN”

* * *

Patton’s day is, not going well. He almost missed a class, did not do well on his test, and certainly did not have time to prepare for the rush at work, which left both him and his bosses frustrated. Not at him they reassured, but Patton knows he could have done better.

He flops to the couch at home, sniffling softly. It’s not the worst of days yet it could have been so much better. He doesn’t care enough to muffle his sadness and falls asleep on the couch, too tired to move.

The next morning he wakes to the smell of eggs. He rubs his eyes, crusty from tears and sleep, and looks at the box in front of him. There are two things on it, a book on ‘Tricks of the Trade in Food Industry’ and a plate of messy scrambled eggs with a small note on it.

“i tried - v”

Patton pulls the blanket on his shoulders tighter, knowing for a fact the deep red blanket is not his and he certainly didn’t fall asleep with it, and carefully brings the plate to his lap. He can see bits of shredded cheese mixed in with some left over sausage he made the other day on the side. Maybe the eggs aren’t the best and the sausage is old, but Patton loves it more than words can handle.

“Thank you guys so much."

* * *

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Lovely as the sun shining~”

“thanks”

* * *

“Did you make brownies darling?”

“Nope! Were there brownies in the fridge?”

“Well they were exquisite!”

“I saw them earlier but they did not posses the usual ‘feel free’ notice.”

“have fun in like an hour dude my friend made those green”

“I can hear colors and you all sound wonderful~”

* * *

“Whomever left their music going, I turned it off. I apologize for breaching privacy but it was starting to cause a headache.”

“sorry my b”

“That was your Disney playlist going? Have you been saved by the glory of goodness?”

“bruh”

“I want to watch movies now!”

* * *

It had been a risky move, one that Patton isn’t even too sure how it worked. The schedule whiteboard works well for all of them, a simple notice of who is going where without saying much. ‘L’ has been changing the dates, written in neat black marker and surprisingly, everyone else keeps up with writing their odd outings as well.

Patton had wanted this though and so he put on his free Sunday night ‘dinner?’ and then put little blue question marks on everyone else’s, so far free, Sunday night. He expected rejection just a little bit, but he comes home from work, to everyone writing their confirmation, and someone erasing his own question mark. That causes some butterflies.

It’ll be their first dinner together, it will be their first time together at all. Patton can hardly wait.

* * *

“What would you all like for dinner on Sunday!!!”

“Whatever you decide to make will be satisfactory for all of us.”

“I will love anything you can stir up love~”

“uh spaghetti?”

* * *

Patton is going all out Italian. There is pasta boiling, meatballs sizzling in a red sauce made from scratch. He even bought a wedge of parmesan to properly grate into shredded cheese. There’s a bowl already on the table of a classic ceaser salad with four places set and ready.

He dips a small spoon in the red sauce, taking a quick taste. He drops the spoon to the sink and adds a few more spices to the pan, stirring it all together once more. He has to make sure it’s right, just right. After all this time, he wants everything to be his very best.

He carefully slices a fresh loaf of bread to put on the tray, garlic bread a must for this endeavor. He’s melting butter in the microwave and adding spices to it. He’s in the middle of carefully mincing his garlic clove when the front door opens and Patton freezes.

“Oh it smells absolutely _divine_ in here~” The person says. They lock eyes with Patton and somehow the dashing smile they wear grows even wider. Their hair is wavy and tousled and there’s a dimple high on their cheek. They stand tall in a red and white jacket and Patton is too excited to meet them to breathe.

Luckily they close the door and put their bag on the couch. They come right back to Patton and hold out their hand. Naturally going for a handshake Patton takes it and is wonderfully delighted when his roommate turns his hand and kisses the back of it, complete with bow at the waist.

“It is simply an honor, my personal chef, to _finally_ meet you~” And Patton, well he can’t help the stream of giggles that burst out of him. He covers his face with one hand and tries to say thank you or hi or anything really. He can’t though and frankly, his roommate looks smug about that.

“Oh to hadestown with it!” They say suddenly and Patton is wrapped in a hug that lifts him off the ground and twirls him about. Oh if he thought he was dizzy with happiness before, this certainly makes it worse and better all at once. He’s laughing loudly now and he’s sure his face is flushed dark when he’s finally put down.

“My name is Roman,” They introduces themselves. Patton smiles so wide his face hurts.

“Patton,” He’s breathless. Something beeps and Patton hops so fast out of Roman’s hug he actually feels the loss for a moment. His focus is now razor sharp, cutting the garlic again and mixing it with his butter and spice.

“Do you require assistance?”

“Nope!” Patton pops the ‘p’ and continues on. He spreads the garlic butter on the bread and pops it in the oven carefully setting a timer for barely a minute long. The red sauce is tried again and satisfied with the flavor, Patton picks it from the stove to place on a trivet to the side. He tests his noodles by picking one out with a fork to nibble.

That too he pulls from the stove and strains. Once the water is gone he replaces the noodles and drops a decent portion of butter in the middle of the noodles. He lets it melt slowly as the oven beeps and he pulls out the tray of garlic bread. The smell wafts through the house and someone whines hungrily. 

“You can start on the salad if you’re-” Patton finally looks up, not realizing that two people are now watching him, both already with plates of salad in their hands.

“Beat you to it puffball~” Roman winks and shoves another bite in his mouth, making it crunch decidedly. The other person eats more carefully, adjusting their glasses every so often. They wear a black long sleeve and a tie.

“Salutations, it is nice to be able to formally introduce myself. I am Logan,” They say. Patton lets out a happy sigh.

“I’m Patton.” The edges of Logan’s mouth twitch up in an almost smile before they hide it in their salad. Patton goes back to his work. He slowly mixes in the melted butter to make the pasta shine. He sprinkles some of his freshly grated cheese on the bread and pops it back in the oven for just one more minute. The meatball skillet is brought to the table and then follows with his pasta pot.

“I am sooo hungry, I skipped lunch to make sure I was extra prepared for this,” Roman says as he takes a seat at the table. Sometime during their stay, four mismatched chairs appeared. Patton never questioned it and right now it seems fitting.

“That is an unwise decision,” Logan remarks and sits down at the table as well. Patton laughs and makes sure all the appliances are turned far off. The garlic bread is stacked on a plate and brought over to the table along with the plate of grated cheese. Patton looks at his work and can’t help but feel proud and so elated that he’ll finally be able to see to the people he’s been feeding for almost half a year eat his food in person.

“So worth it~” Roman manages to say around another too big a mouthful of salad. Patton snickers and Logan rolls his eyes, there’s a small smile on his face so it’s okay. Roman reaches for the pasta ladle when Logan speaks up.

“Aren’t we currently missing someone?” The question gives them all pause and Patton glances over to the hallway leading to his door and the other’s. Patton bites his lip.

“We have to wait for them,” He mutters out determined to have them all there. Logan folds his hands and though pouty and hungry, Roman leans back away from the ladle. Good thing it doesn’t take too long.

They all perk up when the bedroom door opens and closes softly. A head peeks around the corner and looks visibly shocked to see them all there.

“Oh okay shit fuck we’re doing this okay,” They take a deep breath and come around the corner. Their hoodie is ripped and sewn back together, a mess of purple and back. Patton can’t stop his smile.

“I’m uh.. V,” They say and give an awkward two finger salute. Patton beams as they all introduce themselves one last before sitting down.

“Thank god,” Roman breathes out and immediately drops a hefty portion of pasta on his plate that could really be considered ‘too much’.

“Roman!” Patton squeals out. Roman just flashes him a smile.

“Food coma or not, it shall be worth it,” He teases and plops meatballs on his plate too.

“I’m such a slut for garlic bread,” V takes three pieces and uses the spoon to put red sauce on them, along with more cheese and then tops it with spaghetti, making a weird pasta pizza. Logan takes his time, getting an almost measured ratio of pasta to meatball to sauce to cheese. Patton can’t wait to hear their thoughts.

It takes a minute or so, watching with baited breath as they all finally start to eat. Patton has yet to put food on his plate, much more eager and interested in them. Roman breaks first with a loud over done groan.

“I’m in heaven,” He says somehow with a face full of pasta. Patton feels like he’s glowing.

“Like I said before, it is satisfactory to the highest degree,” Logan comments as well, carefully putting each bite in his mouth to not spill.

“If I wasn’t already gay for food, this would turn me,” V raises one of his bread pieces in a ‘cheers’ like motion, then ceremoniously shoves the largest bite he can into his mouth to the point he can barely chew. It causes Roman to nearly spit up his own food and Logan just puts his hand to his head.

And to Patton it’s everything he could have hoped for and more. He finally gets a plate of his own food, happily eating his own meal with the others around him.

“So this is like a new regular thing right? We can round table pick the dish and have it every Sunday?” Roman is leaning back in his chair, hands on his belly and a dazed smile on his face. V, who is very much in a similar position shrugs. Logan who paced himself and ate a proper amount, wipes his face with a napkin.

“I shall not be opposed to Sunday dinners if that is what is preferred.” Then three pairs of eyes on him and Patton blinks back.

“Is that okay?” Roman asks.

“We do not wish to impose of course,” Logan adds.

“No pressure,” V mumbles to him as well.

Patton can feel the smile spreading across his face into one in full bloom. They want him to keep cooking for them.

“I would love that,” He says and the already easy atmosphere around them grows more loving. It cuddles them all close and Patton, who once didn’t even properly know his roommates names, feels closer to them more than ever.

**Author's Note:**

> -jazz hands-  
> this fic might get a part 2


End file.
